


Blue Right Through You

by scapegoat



Series: Varric Is Definitely Writing This Down [3]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: (One-Sided) Hawke Sibling Rivalry, Adorable Hawke, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anders Being Anders, Apostates (Dragon Age), Blood Magic, Brief Sebastian Vael Cameo, Budding Hawke & Fenris Friendship, Carver Hawke Is The Best Brother Ever, Cute Fenris, Dalish Elven Culture and Customs, Elven Alienages, Fenris & Isabela Friendship, Hawke being Hawke, Human Disaster Hawke, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Isabela being Isabela, Jealous Anders, Kirkwall (Dragon Age), Kirkwall Guards, Mercenaries, Obliviousness, Pre-Deep Roads Expedition, Pre-Fenris/Hawke, Pre-Relationship, Purple Hawke, Templars (Dragon Age), The Bone Pit (Dragon Age), The Hanged Man (Dragon Age), Typical Hawke Flirting, Varric Tethras is a Good Friend, Varric Tethras' Nicknames, Who Isn't Friends With Varric?, Wingman Carver Hawke, everyone loves hawke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 18:28:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9670811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scapegoat/pseuds/scapegoat
Summary: It’s difficult thwarting plots against your life when you’re surrounded by incompetence. Fortunately, Anso says he found a solution through a “contact.” The job goes through without a hitch and it’s only after it’s done Fenris notices the irony. It’s only fitting the disturbingly endearing and criminally attractive redhead Anso hired is a damn mage. No one ever tells you these things beforehand.But, oh no, things do not end after the job is completed. Far from it, in fact. The job is just the beginning.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own The Dragon Age series, nor do I make money from writing.

“I’m not sure we can be picky about what jobs we get.”  
  
Carver groans, “ _I know_ but it’s _Meeran_. You know the...” He glances around, “the shit he made us do, brother. Mother would weep.” Carver flails the letter in his hands. “How do we know this isn’t a trap? Or some ploy to get us back?”  
  
“Surprisingly, Meeran has proven a man of his word. He let us go, we paid him back in spades, Carver. Let it go.” Carver huffs. “Let’s go grab Varric and see what can be done.”  
  
“Speaking of Varric, when are we gonna investigate this Grey Warden he won’t shut up about?”  
  
Hawke slowly runs a hand down his face, “I forgot about that. We’ll do that now.”  
  
Aveline is busy with Guard Captain duties and Merrill is engaging in a very interesting debate with a building owner so it’s only Varric that joins them at the Lowtown shop. Well, they meet Varric there. “How much coin do you two have saved up?”  
  
“Over twenty sovereigns so far. Almost halfway there.” Hawke gives him a thumbs up. “Got some more work lined up too.”  
  
“Ah, Hawke, you don’t disappoint.”  
  
“Trust me, you’ll reconsider your stance soon enough.”  
  
“Any reason why Junior’s grumpier than usual?”  
  
“He is? Hm. Hadn’t noticed.”  
  
They walk into the store and Hawke eyes the donation box. “ _Don’t_. We need the coin for the expedition.” Despite not taking his eyes off the box, he nods at his brother. Carver approaches the woman behind the counter. “Hi!” Carver greets, glaring at Varric who snorts.  
  
The woman eyes them suspiciously, “is there something I can help you gentlemen with?”  
  
“We’re looking for a Grey Warden.” Carver says, “we heard a rumor about you knowing where to find one.”  
  
“And just who told you this ‘rumor,’ serah? We Fereldans have enough trouble without random strangers making fool inquiries.”  
  
“We—” Carver glances at Varric, “ _I’m_ Fereldan and I know all about hiding.” The woman purses her lips into a line.  
  
“Look.” Varric cuts in, “we won’t bother the guy. We just need to know about Grey Warden maps. If you could point us in his direction we’d be grateful.”  
  
“Excuse me.” Varric watches the redhead approach the counter, “I was gonna drop some sovereigns in that box but...” He puts the donation box on the counter, “the lock’s broken.”  
  
Gasping, the woman opens the empty book. “Maker’s breath! We had fifteen sovereigns in there for the refugees.” There’s a cacophony of sobs and groans. “Who would do such a thing?”  
  
“Hey, don’t worry.” Hawke unclips his pouch from his belt. “I counted twenty-three sovereigns in here—”  
  
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Evan!?” Carver grabs him by the collar, “do you not want to go to the deep roads?!”  
  
“You’d let these people starve—”  
  
“ _We’d_ starve without that money to fund the expedition!”  
  
“Hmm. I’m not sure who to side with here. On the one hand, it’s inexplicably nice of you to give all your— _our—_ money away to help your countrymen. On the other hand, it took us nearly two weeks to get this much and giving it away means we start over.”  
  
“Then we’ll have to work twice as quick, won’t we?” He drops the pouch into the black-haired woman’s hand. Carver lets go of his collar with a growl.  
  
“I-I...I don’t know what to say, messere. Not even fellow refugees have been this nice.” She sighs, “it’s far too kind of you to do so—”  
  
“Tell me about it.” Carver mutters under his breath.  
  
The woman clutches the pouch close to her body. “I’m sure you won’t bring Anders any harm. He lives in the undercity – well, that’s where his clinic is. There were rumors of him being a warden but I cannot say if they are true or not. All I know is, Anders is a good man. He’s helped refugees time and time again without asking for anything in return.”  
  
“I always thought the wardens were ‘til death?” Hawke turns to Varric, “ _can_ someone leave?”  
  
“That’s probably a question we should ask this Anders guy.”  
  
“I doubt this ‘Anders’ is as good a man as you say. Helping people for free without wanting something? No one’s that selfless.”  
  
“Ordinarily, I’d agree but your brother did just give away our expedition money.” Grumbling, Carver folds his arms over his chest.  
  
About fifteen refugees shook Hawke’s hand before they exited the store. “Hey!” The three of them turn to a group of _armed_ citizens. “Heard you were asking about the healer?” The man walks up to Hawke pressing a dagger against his chin, “there’s no way we’re letting him get shipped to the gallows. That healer’s done nothing but patch us up. He even patched up some Kirkwallers.”  
  
“The only thing we want from this healer is his Grey Warden maps.”  
  
“ _Sure_. Like we haven’t heard that before? You’re just templars without the shiny shields.”  
  
Hawke laughs and the men narrow their eyes. “Sorry.” The redhead gently moves the man’s dagger from his face, “I’m not a templar, trust me, and my brother and I came from Ferelden. It’s very unlikely we’d sell out one of ours.”  
  
“F-Ferelden?” The men look among one another before turning to Hawke, “your fancy clothes are misleading, serah. We thought you were another Kirkwaller cozying up with the templars.”  
  
“Well, I’m kinda _magic_ so...” He trails off with a shrug.  
  
“ _Ah_. We’re so sorry for the confusion. Maker bless our rulers.”  
  
“To King Alistair and Queen Anora!” Someone shouts then the others cheer.  
  
“Drop by The Hanged Man and we’ll buy you a pint.” The man claps Hawke on the back before he and his group disappear.  
  
“Honestly, I thought I’d need to get Bianca ready.”  
  
“My brother’s always had this weird way of talking himself out of shit. Bethany used to say that was magic in itself.”  
  
“Bethany? That was your sister, right? And she was a mage also?” Carver nods. “I’m sorry for your loss. I would’ve liked to meet another Hawke.”  
  
Carver scoffs, “I could only imagine how that would go. She’s like _him_ in a lot of ways.” Varric elbows him, “what?”  
  
“You had this fond look on your face, Junior. I’m just trying to protect your reputation.”  
  
⚔  
  
“Ta-dah!” The three of them look around, “it’s my new house. Cost me two-hundred silver but I think it was worth it. Also, I have to pay you the silver back but I will. I swear.”  
  
“Merrill, it’s alright. I’m just glad you’re not sleeping under that big tree anymore.”  
  
“It’s softer than it looks and the roots made for good pillows.”  
  
Carver elbows Varric, “would you pay two-hundred silver for a house?”  
  
“A house like this?” A rat runs past them, “I think it’s the proper property value.”  
  
“We’re heading to the undercity to get some Grey Warden maps, wanna come?”  
  
“Ooh. I do. I met a Grey Warden. His name was Duncan. Helped Mahariel with the poison. I think I told you about that, right?”  
  
“Yeah. Your clan mate is The Hero Of Ferelden. We know. Say, Daisy, mind if I pick your brain sometime? I’d really like to get that story written down.”  
  
“Why would you want to pick my brain? I don’t get it.”  
  
“It’s an expression. He wants information about The Hero Of Ferelden before she became a Grey Warden.”  
  
“Oh! I can tell you all about Mahariel. She was...” Merrill’s eyebrows furrow, “ _feisty_. She liked experimenting.”  
  
“This sounds vaguely sexual, Daisy.”  
  
“That’s because it is. Mahariel took lots of our clanmates to bed. She was with Tamlen more than the rest though. She was pregnant when she got the taint, it made her lose the baby. Of course, she lost Tamlen too. It was just a bad week for her. But she turned it around. Becoming ‘The Hero Of Ferelden.’” Merrill nods to herself, “she wrote to me once, before the blight ended. It took a while to get the letter with the clan moving around so much. Then I heard from her again when Ashalle told us of the boon she asked for – for our people.”  
  
“I heard about that.” Varric says, “I also heard it didn’t turn out so well.” Merrill frowns but nods. “That’s enough sad news for today—”  
  
“You say that now but then you expect us to go to the undercity.”  
  
“You’re brooding twice has hard, Junior, you still pissed about your brother giving way the deep roads money?”  
  
“Of course I’m still pissed! Why wouldn’t I be?” Carver throws his hands in the air, “he’s always been like this. Never thinking. Just running off to do whatever fits his whim.”  
  
“Wait. Hawke gave away the deep roads money? To who?”  
  
“A horde of refugees in Lowtown. Who even knows what they’re using the money for!”  
  
“I don’t regret it—”  
  
“No, you don’t. Why would you? Regret isn’t in your vocabulary! This isn’t just your life you’re throwing in the shitter, _brother_ , it’s mine too and mother’s.”  
  
“You blaming me for everything is really losing its charm.”  
  
“I wouldn’t need to blame you if you didn’t fuck up so much.”  
  
Varric looks between the brothers. “Okay, so this isn’t just about the money.”  
  
“No.” Carver pokes his brother in the chest, “it’s about _every_ decision my dear brother’s made since coming to Kirkwall.”  
  
“I don’t see you eager to take the reins.”  
  
“Creators, I wish I paid better attention to the keeper when she broke up arguments.” Merrill pats both of them on the shoulder, “I think you two should stop now so we can head to the undercity. One of you might say something you regret. And what did Asha’bellanar say about regret?”  
  
“Okay! Fine. It’s over, let’s just head to the damn undercity already! Shit, while we’re there we can look into the idiots who thought it was a good idea to buy our house.”  
  
The redhead pats his brother on the back, “there’s my grumpy little brother.”  
  
“You don’t get off the hook so easily, Evan.”  
  
A sigh. “Of course, I don’t.”  
  
The trip to the undercity is less than pleasant but considering it’s the first time Hawke or Merrill stepped foot in here they take countless opportunities to look around in awe. “Never thought Hawke was this easily amused.”  
  
“It’s not a family trait.” Carver assures.  
  
“Is it a mage thing?” Varric and Carver exchange a glance.  
  
“Doubt it. Bethany was never like this.”  
  
“You know, Junior, you gotta fully divulge about this sister of yours one day.”  
  
“Why the hell for?”  
  
“Is that another ‘fuck up’ you blame your brother for?”  
  
“Not just him, I blame—” Carver shakes his head, “it doesn’t matter.”  
  
The lady – Lirene – said to look for the lit lanterns and there are lanterns in front of two closed ominous looking doors. Hawke, being the brazen person Varric noticed shortly after their initial meeting, carelessly flings the doors open. There’s a blond – a mage – healing a little boy on a cot. Bethany did the healing, which was a good thing considering Carver was her twin brother. Once he finishes, a few refugees pat him on the back. As the group approaches, he points his _glowing_ staff at them. “Come no closer.”  
  
“Whoa.” Varric says, “we mean you no harm!”  
  
“How do I know that? Did the templars send you? The Wardens?”  
  
Hawke locks his hands behind his head, “how did you leave the wardens? _Can you_ leave the wardens?”  
  
The blond narrows his eyes then slightly lowers his staff, “I don’t know if you _can_ but I did. Who sent you?”  
  
The brothers point to Varric who sighs, “look. We’re just looking for Grey Warden maps. We need to go to the deep roads.”  
  
“The deep roads? You _willingly_ want to go there?”  
  
“Not willingly.” Varric grumbles, “but...” He shrugs, “that’s where the money is.”  
  
“ _Money_? The only thing in the...” The blond trails off with a hum then shakes his head, “I’ll die a happy man if I never visit the deep roads again.”  
  
“See. Even a former Warden doesn’t wanna go.”  
  
“What do we need to do to get the maps from you?” Carver asks.  
  
The blond looks between the four of them – Carver forgot Merrill was even with them until she sneezed. “You want something from me, you can do me a favor.”  
  
Hawke hums, “that depends on the favor.” Carver turns to his older brother. “Let’s be specific here. Most of us have limits, turn offs, watchwords—”  
  
“Maker’s breath. Don’t you take _anything_ seriously?” Carver shakes his head at his shrugging brother. Sometimes it’s hard to believe _he’s_ the younger sibling, “what’s the favor—”  
  
“And do we need watchwords?”  
  
The blond looks like he’s trying his hardest not to laugh if his lip quirking is any indication. “Evan, I swear—”  
  
“Lighten up, Carver.”  
  
“I just need you to meet me at the chantry, tonight.” They turn to him. “I have a friend there. I came to Kirkwall to help him.”  
  
“A _friend_ —” Carver slaps his hand over his brother’s mouth then motions for Anders to continue.  
  
“Help me free my friend from the templars and I’ll give you not only the deep roads maps but I’ll even help you when you head to the deep roads.”  
  
Because his mouth is still covered by Carver, Hawke nods enthusiastically. “Sure.” Varric says, “but I gotta agree with Hawke on the need for watchwords.”  
  
⚔  
  
“This is a mistake.” Aveline grumbles. “Why are we doing this?”  
  
“You wanted to come.” Carver points out, “we were gonna do this without you.”  
  
“I finally had some free time and I can’t say I trust Hawke’s judgment.”  
  
Carver sighs, “you and me both.”  
  
“I think it’s good we’re helping mages.” Merrill says, “that is what we’re doing, right?”  
  
Hawke shrugs, “the hot angsty guy didn’t really give us much detail—”  
  
“ _Please_ don’t tell me we’re doing this because you find that mage attractive.”  
  
“‘Course not.” A pause, “that is to say, that isn’t my only reason for wanting to help.”  
  
Carver mumbles something under his breath. “Huh. That’s interesting.” Varric notes. “Is there anything in particular about that brooding former warden you find attractive?”  
  
The redhead lets out a heavy sigh. “Oh let me count the ways: the stubble, the sexy tortured soul look he’s got going on? What else is there—”  
  
“You need serious help, brother.”  
  
They approach the stairway to the chantry. “Okay, someone should stand guard—” The four of them look at Aveline.  
  
“Oh for...” She sighs, “ _fine_. Just get it over with quickly.” Nodding, they make their way up the stairs to where Anders is.  
  
“I saw Karl go inside a few minutes ago.”  
  
“Karl, hm? What’s—” Hawke hisses as Carver elbows him, _harshly_.  
  
“Let’s get this over with.”  
  
There’s something unmistakably _creepy_ about entering the chantry at night – even when they were in Lothering. Carver usually went into chantries – during the day – with his mother, but sometimes Bethany would slip in with them. Otherwise, Bethany went in by herself. Evan rarely spent time _near_ the chantry let alone inside one. Carver gives his brother a sideways glance. Carver would be a terrible brother if he didn’t note his elder brother’s discomfort. Huh. Maybe that’s why he never went close to the chantry in Lothering? Perhaps he felt those old tales were true. The Maker would smite him where he stood just for being a mage. As funny a sight as that would be, he’s not over losing his twin a year ago he doesn’t need to lose another sibling.  
  
There’s a grey-haired man standing suspiciously by a table and, sure enough, as soon as this “Anders” guy engages in conversation fucking templars come. Wonderful.  
  
Dispatching the templars takes little to no effort, but Carver – and by extension everyone else – noticed Anders _glowing_ not only pre-fight but during. It’s not the usual mage glow Carver’s come to know having two mage siblings. It’s a different, freaky as all hell glow.  
  
When Anders stops glowing the grey-haired man turns to him, “how did you do that? You..it’s like you brought part of the fade into out world. It—It’s allowed me to _feel_.”  
  
The redhead cocks his head to the right. “The chantry boasts about how tranquil can’t feel anything.”  
  
“I-I’m not even sure _how_.”  
  
Hawke glances at Anders, “I’m guessing it has something to do with your glow?”  
  
Anders frowns, “I have _unique_ circumstances—”  
  
“That’s an understatement.” Varric mutters.  
  
“That doesn’t matter. Karl, what happened? How did the templars find out?”  
  
“They...they’re far more vigilant than the templars in Ferelden. I—I...” He sighs, “I’m starting. Please, you have to kill me. I don’t know how you made me feel anything but it’s starting to fade. I don’t want to live like this anymore.”  
  
“You—you can’t ask me to do this.”  
  
“Wouldn’t you prefer a mercy kill to knowing you’re letting him suffer?”  
  
Anders sighs, “damn. You’re right. I-I’m sorry Karl. I—I—” He gulps, “goodbye.” He claps the grey-haired man on the shoulder with one hand and stabs him straight in the heart with the other.  
  
Maybe it’s the creepiness of the chantry at night but Carver swears he hears Karl thank Anders before slumping to his death. “I don’t know about you guys but I think we should leave before more templars show up.” Varric says.  
  
“Right. Let’s get out of here.”  
  
The trip back to Anders’ clinic is silent, minus the redhead whistling lowly. Plus, the gang of pretend guardsmen that ambush them before they leave Hightown. “Okay!” Hawke says after he throws the clinic doors open, “I’d like an explanation on the glow, if now’s an appropriate time.”  
  
“What explanation do you need, brother? He’s an abomination.”  
  
“You’re wrong.” Anders frowns.  
  
“Not completely wrong I’d wager.” Varric interrupts.  
  
“Look. I—you guys know about the Hero Of Ferelden, right?”  
  
Merrill nods enthusiastically. “I know Mahariel. She was my clansmate!”  
  
“Really? Huh. A-Anyway, she went to Amaranthine to become Warden-Commander. We met and she conscripted me to the Grey Wardens. She saved my life because I’m sure the templars after me would’ve killed me.” He clears his throat, “anyway. When we went to a place called the Black Marsh we met a spirit of Justice. It took him a while to warm up to us but we eventually became friends. Justice recognized how poorly mages around Thedas were being treated. We teamed up. I think he was gonna die or something, I don’t remember. Anyway, I figured—” A shrug, “why not?”  
  
“Why not, _what_?” Carver asks.  
  
“I let him into my body.” Hawke whistles. “A friend, a willing host, it had to be a better alternative, right?”  
  
“So a spirit of justice is like living in your head?” Varric asks.  
  
“No. He’s part of me.” The four of them look among one another. “I guess we merged? I feel his thoughts along with mine. We were supposed to help mages everywhere. Bring Justice to every child ripped from their parents as soon as they find out about magic. Unfortunately, he changed.”  
  
Varric and Carver take a step back and pull Merrill back with them. Hawke narrows his eyes, “changed _how_?”  
  
“For as long as I could remember, I’ve been suffering abuse at the hands of templars who figured they can do whatever the hell they want with their charges.” He frowns, “I suppose my resentment and anger toward templars warped Justice into a spirit of Vengeance?”  
  
“So, you _are_ an abomination? Can’t say I’ve ever met one up close.” Varric muses.  
  
“Perfect.” Carver mutters, “just what we need. Helping out an abomination. Is that what you wanted to do tonight? I don’t care how attractive you think he is.”  
  
“A-Attractive?”  
  
Hawke waves him off, “yes but—you have a spirit of justice slash vengeance _inside you_ that gets super glowy and pissed whenever you’re around templars? You know Kirkwall is literally crawling with templars, right?”  
  
“I hadn’t realized that until after I came here.” Anders folds his arms over his chest, “as I said I only came here to help Karl.”  
  
“I hope he was worth it.”  
  
“He was. I-I can’t believe he’s dead and by my hand no less.”  
  
“If it makes you feel better – and less _glowy_ – you can always say templars killed him when they made him tranquil—”  
  
“Hawke, is that your idea of making someone feel better?”  
  
He turns to Varric and shrugs before turning back to Anders. “Look. I personally know what it’s like to have templars breathing down your back, watching you, having to hide. Fortunately, Lothering never much of a shit; it’s why we lived there for so long. Point is, if you need help hiding from templars or whatever you have it.”  
  
“Really?” Anders narrows his eyes, “after everything I told you?”  
  
“We still need the deep roads maps.”  
  
The blond chuckles, “you’re a strange one. You have my maps and me, if you’ll have me. Maker knows I need to get out of this place from time to time.”  
  
“Cool.” Hawke shakes the stunned blond’s hands. “I’m Hawke, in case you didn’t hear. My little—”  
  
“Little sounds demeaning.” Carver interrupts.  
  
“What?” The redhead rolls his eyes, “my _younger_ and annoying brother Carver.” The aforementioned man scowls, “Varric and Merrill.” They both wave.  
  
“It’s nice meeting you all.”  
  
“We gotta introduce you to Ave...” Hawke facepalms, “we forgot about Aveline!”  
  
⚔  
  
“You know, Hawke, for a mage you’re surprisingly physical.”  
  
“Uh, thank you?”  
  
Varric nods. “Don’t mention it. Seriously, though. I’ve known mages and none of them are as ripped as you. Plus, I noticed you don’t use magic that much when you fight.”  
  
“Oh, well, my father made sure I knew how to fight without magic just in case.” He shrugs, “he was tougher on me than the twins. I used to think it was because I’m older but thinking back on it I’m not so sure. He always went on about not using magic as a means to end things or start things. Carver’s a slightly less grumpy, non-bearded version of Malcolm Hawke.”  
  
“There’s an image. What happened to your dad?”  
  
“I don’t even remember. Shit. Some son I am. He hovered over the twins more. He never taught me magic by myself it was always with Bethany, yet he taught Bethany stuff without me. She was the favorite between our parents. Carver was the little swordsman so Malcolm loved having him around, teaching him things. Showing him off because he was the only normal child he had. I can’t believe he named him after a templar.”  
  
“Who are you named after?”  
  
“Not like I can ask. Well, I _could_ ask mother but I doubt she knows.” Varric hums taking a sip of his ale. “Don’t know who Bethany was named after either.”  
  
“You sure you wanna leave Junior out of this? We could find another crazy mage? I mean we’re two for two, right? A blood mage and an abomination. Templars are gonna hate us.”  
  
“Right?” Hawke laughs, “anyway, after finding that letter by that mage guy I’m sure he needs time to brood.”  
  
“Junior broods naturally and, quite frankly, giving him more time to brood seems unnecessary.”  
  
“True. You ready to head out? We need to talk to this Anso guy.”  
  
“Can we swing by the alienage first? I swear Daisy’s gonna give me seven simultaneous heart attacks. It’s been two weeks, right? And she’s always getting lost! I don’t even know how! I have people looking out for her and they sometimes manage to lose her. We need to keep her with us at all times.” As they leave Varric’s room, they stumble upon a pile of bodies. “Maker’s ass, what happened here?!”  
  
Norah – the head barmaid – points to the brunette happily chugging a mug. “ _That_ happened.” She huffs. “I need someone to clean this up.”  
  
Varric sighs, “thanks. Come on, Hawke. Let’s—” Varric does a double take then spots Hawke walking toward the brunette. “Shit.” He grumbles then tiptoes around the unconscious bodies to Hawke.  
  
“—cute.” The brunette giggles, “I definitely haven’t seen you around before. I’m Isabela.” She bows, “previously _Captain_ Isabela. Of course, no ship kinda makes the title unnecessary.” She shrugs. “You’re from Ferelden, right?” Hawke nods. “Thought so. You know I was in Denerim and even _met_ The Hero Of Ferelden.” She grins.  
  
“Ah.” Varric says.  
  
“Yup.” Isabela taps her chin, “that reminds me. You look like the type who enjoys a good fight.”  
  
“That I do, M’lady.”  
  
Isabela licks her lips, “hm. Good to know. Oh. What was I saying? Right! Someone from my past wants to ‘meet up.’ I arranged for a duel but he’s a slippery little shit and I doubt he’ll play fair.”  
  
“A _duel_?” Varric asks.  
  
“Yes, a duel. It’s what I do.”  
  
“Are you hiring us for a job?”  
  
“That depends.”  
  
Hawke raises an eyebrow, “on what?”  
  
“On what I have to pay? I’m a little short on coin, and by ‘a little’ I mean I just spent my last coppers on this—” She shakes her empty mug.  
  
“Hm. Tell you what: How about you buy me a pint of the horrible shit here I’ve become accustomed to whenever you get some coin?”  
  
“You have yourself a deal!” They shake hands. “We can also loot the dead body of the man we kill and I’m assuming all his lackeys.”  
  
“That works too.”  
  
“Meet me at Hightown tonight~” She winks then walks off.  
  
“Well, no way that won’t be fun.”  
  
“You’re starting to sound like Carver. Let’s get Merrill.” As soon as they leave The Hanged Man, they spot a twitchy dwarf pacing back and forth in front of a cart. “Are you alright?”  
  
The dwarf jumps at least a foot in the air, “ancestors! Y-You can’t just pop up outta nowhere.”  
  
“Sorry. You just look...troubled.”  
  
“I—” He sighs, “forgive me. I haven’t been on the surface too long and I can’t help waiting to fall up into that open sky.”  
  
Hawke tilts his head to the right, confused. “Ah.” Varric sighs fondly. “I remember when Bartrand got jumpy whenever he was outside.”  
  
“Take your time. Deep breaths.” The dwarf complies, shakily. “Now, what’s wrong?”  
  
“I’m supposed to wait for this human. A mercenary told me about him. Told me he was the best but he didn’t look to happy about that. Said his name was Hawke?”  
  
“That’s me. I’m Hawke.”  
  
“Are you? Wow. You’re bigger than I expected.”  
  
“I get that a lot. You must be Anso.” They shake hands, “what do you need me to do?”  
  
⚔  
  
“Is it me or was he not completely forthcoming with the details? I mean, sure, no one wants to openly admit they’re smuggling lyrium but that’s not all.”  
  
“Must be bad if you’re suspicious.”  
  
Varric picks the lock on the door of the house Anso described. It was in the Lowtown alienage across the giant tree from Merrill’s place. “It’s empty. Another bad sign.” Once they open a door a dozen men and women armed to the teeth jumped up from their card game to attack them.  
  
Varric noticed during the usual Tuesday evening after drink work out, Hawke hadn’t used his staff to do anything but club a few attackers over the head. Whenever they went fighting magic was the first and only thing in Merrill’s arsenal. They hadn’t gone “adventuring” with Anders yet so Varric’s not sure about the blond yet. But Hawke? Maybe there was something more than he was letting on about this dad “teaching him magic.” Varric planned on getting the story out of him some day, over many drinks. They can talk shit about their fathers together. That’s something friends did, right?  
  
Once their attackers were laying lifeless on the cold, hard ground Hawke happily jogged over to the lone chest the guards were protecting. “Let me?” Varric walks over to the chest and picks the lock. When he opens it both his and Hawke’s faces fall. “This is empty too? Bad sign number three.” Varric sighs, “hate to say it, Hawke, but I think we were set up.”  
  
“You worry too much.”  
  
As soon as they exit the house an entourage of people dressed in black down to their masks surround the house. One of many black-clad individuals steps forward, sniffing disdainfully. “This isn’t the elf.”  
  
“Maybe they’re working for him? No matter. We’re supposed to kill whoever leaves the house.”  
  
Varric glares up at Hawke. “Okay _maybe_ you were right to worry and we were set up.” Varric folds his arms over his chest. “Do we really need to do this _now_?”  
  
“Stop talking.” They turn to the group. “Tell us where the elf is and we’ll make your deaths painless.”  
  
“How can we refuse such a generous offer?” Varric slowly gets Bianca ready. Dying in Lowtown’s alienage surrounded by two dozen goons doesn’t make for a good story-ending death. Doesn’t make for a good death no matter how you slice it. Fortunately, Hawke isn’t the only one who can talk himself out of shitty situations. “Unfortunately, we don’t know what elf you’re talking about.”  
  
“You expect us to believe that?”  
  
The redhead mutters something akin to a _no_ , but Varric ignores it. “We’re severely outnumbered. What’s lying gonna do for us now?”  
  
“Hm. I believe you. Too bad you two have to die anyway.”  
  
“Shit.” _Okay,_ so perhaps he’s not as good as talking himself out of shit as he originally thought.  
  
“Hawke!” The momentary distraction allows Hawke and Varric to put some distance between themselves and their attackers. Merrill stood, in front her house and weaponless. “I...” She gulps, “you’re busy.”  
  
“Is that the elf?”  
  
As the masked attackers look among themselves Hawke tosses Merrill _his staff_ and the elf easily catches it. She grips it tightly then _branches_ come from Maker knows where and round up all the attackers crushing them into one another, killing them instantly. Varric nearly dropped Bianca in surprise. “Oh. I didn’t think that would work.”  
  
“I’m not even gonna ask what that was, Daisy.”  
  
“Nice work.” Hawke pats her on the back, “you had good timing.”  
  
“I heard talking and thought you could use some help.” She offers the staff back to Hawke.  
  
“Nah. Hold onto it, we gotta meet someone. Two someone’s really.”  
  
“Are you sure? I could just get one inside. Besides, I’m sure Carver would want to come.”  
  
“Carver? My brother, Carver? He’s in your house?”  
  
Merrill nods, oblivious to Varric and Hawke exchanging a glance. “I’ll only take a second.”  
  
“Junior and Daisy? Interesting.”  
  
As Merrill happily exits her house, Carver does so with far less enthusiasm. “Brother.” Hawke greets.  
  
“Brother.” Carver clears his throat. “Let’s go.”  
  
As they’re leaving the alienage a man comes down the stairs. “What happ—” He glances at the mangled bodies in the corner. “I don’t know who you are, friend, but you’ve made a serious mistake interfering. Lieutenant, bring _everyone_.”  
  
The four of them look around and before Varric can say anything a lone man limps down the stairs. “C-Captain...” Then he passes out. Or dies. No one’s sure.  
  
“Your men are dead.” A new voice says. A new voice, Carver notes, that makes his brother shiver. A white-haired oddly dressed elf slowly makes a descent down the staircase and Carver elbows his gaping brother. “I suggest you run back to your master.”  
  
“You don’t give me orders, slave.” The man grabs the elf by the shoulder, which turns out to be a big mistake as the elf rounds on the man and sticks his _glowing hand_ right through the guy’s chest.  
  
After that display the redhead’s not the only one gaping.  
  
“I am not a slave.” The elf wipes off the hand he just used _to go through another person_ as if it were a common occurrence. “I apologize.”  
  
“No problem.” Carver facepalms. “B-But who are you?”  
  
“My name is Fenris. Those men you...” He glances over at the bodies, “dealt with, were Imperial bounty hunters attempting to recover the lost property of a magister, myself specifically. I hope they didn’t cause you too much trouble.”  
  
“Nah. We deal with this stuff all the time.” Varric replies.  
  
“I see.”  
  
“You don’t happen to know an Anso, do you?”  
  
“Yes. I was the one who requested his help. Speaking of which, if I may ask? What was in the chest in the house?”  
  
“It was empty.”  
  
Fenris sighs, “I see.” He walks over to the corpse of the guy he just killed and picks his pockets. “As I suspected. I know you have questions and I’ll gladly answer them but I have to confront my former master before he flees.”  
  
“Lead the way—”  
  
“Just like that?!”  
  
“Quiet, Carver.” Sighing, Carver shakes his head.  
  
⚔  
  
The dwarf wasn’t kidding when he said they dealt with stuff like this all the time. On the way to Hightown, four different groups of thugs jumped them – and that was just in Lowtown. The group chatted amicably even as they fought their way through all of Lowtown. They were a strange bunch but Fenris couldn’t help staring at the group’s appointed leader.  
  
The ~~large~~ redhead they called Hawke: the human with the big expressive brown eyes and red hair tied up in a ponytail. Damn, he was attractive. Fenris has seen his share of humans in all shapes and sizes throughout Tevinter and wherever else ever since he's been on the run.  
  
In Hightown, two more other groups jumped them. Seems like messing with Hawke and his friends is a foolish mistake; it also seems like they just have terrible luck.  
  
“There you are!” The group stops when a woman with brown hair and an all white very lowcut tunic runs up to them. “I’ve been here for hours.”  
  
“Who is this?” The other, black-haired human asks. He and the redhead have obvious similarities, so they must be brothers. Even if the dwarf hadn’t mentioned it, several times.  
  
“Isabela.” The dwarf grumbles.  
  
“Don’t tell me you forgot?” She huffs folding her arms over her chest, then glances in Fenris’ direction. “Although I understand why. I’m Isabela.” She shakes his hand, “you are adorable.” The redhead clears his throat loudly then he and this Isabela woman exchange a glance. “Oh. Well, alright then.” She smirks.  
  
“Let’s get introductions out of the way...” Varric takes a deep breath, “and explanations. I’m Varric and this is Hawke, Carver, and Merrill. Earlier today we met Isabela in The Hanged Man and she asked for a favor. However, two days ago we got a letter from Anso about something. I can’t remember.”  
  
Isabela puts her hands on her hips, “so what’s gonna happen now? You guys are still helping me, right?”  
  
“We—” Varric makes an indecipherable noise, “what do you think, Hawke?”  
  
The redhead lets out a forced laugh, “sure, why not leave it to me to decide. Not like I know what I'm doing—” The black-haired human – Carver – elbows his brother, harshly. “Alright. Damn. But—” Carver shakes his head. “ _Fine_. You said this former master of yours is in Hightown, right? Probably knows you’re here?” Fenris nods then Hawke turns to Isabela, “and this former friend or whatever, also in Hightown, knows you’re looking for ‘em?” The brunette nods. “Here’s what I suggest: we help Fenris first as this might be a bit more time sensitive, then we go straight to helping Isabela. Sound good.”  
  
The brunette – Isabela – licks her lips, “I have no objections.” The black-haired elf – Merrill – shakes her head, giving Hawke a thumbs up. Carver folds his arms over his chest and grunts.  
  
“Great! Let’s go.”  
  
The six of them slowly enter Danarius’ Hightown mansion. “Ooh. Good thing you brought me along.” Isabela sing-songs, “this place is crawling with traps.” The brunette disarms a couple of traps in the lobby all the while whistling. “This should be fun~”  
  
“You know, I could stand to know a thing or two about this former master of yours.”  
  
Fenris turns to him. “Do you think _now_ is the best time to ask?”  
  
The redhead shrugs, “I’ve never been one to fight in silence.”  
  
“I can attest that.” Carver mumbles.  
  
Fenris sighs, “very well. My former master is a magister from the Imperium.”  
  
“Imperium…? You mean Tevinter?” Carver asks.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“What’s a magist—”  
  
Varric nudges Isabela who covers Merrill’s mouth, “I’ll tell you later, Daisy.” She nods then Isabela uncovers her mouth. Isabela goes back to disarming the traps in the lobby.  
  
“Anything else?”  
  
Hawke tilts his head to the right. The action certainly doesn’t make him look adorable. That would be ridiculous – and wrong. “Yeah. Um, what’s a magister?”  
  
“Members of the magisterium—”  
  
“They’re _mages_ , Firefly.” Hawke turns to Varric who gives him a pointed look. “Evil mages who rule Tevinter. Am I warm?”  
  
“Mostly.”  
  
“So, all mages in Tevinter are bad?” Carver asks, “just wondering… to wonder.” Varric shakes his head.  
  
Fenris glances at Carver, then Varric, then Carver again. “In my experience, yes. Why?”  
  
“No reason!” Varric and Carver yell simultaneously.  
  
“Ta-dah! Finished with the defenses in this room.” Shades emerge from the floor. “Oh come on! That’s just not fair!”  
  
“Hey, you think we should’ve gotten Aveline? Or maybe our brooding clinic friend?”  
  
“Nah.” Hawke cracks his knuckles, “we can handle this.”  
  
“I distinctly remember you saying something similar to that earlier when we were outnumbered and trained assassins tried to kill us?”  
  
“Did I?”  
  
Fenris almost immediately notices the orange glow from the other elf in the group. _Great_. A mage. Unless she has a glowing problem – not that Fenris should talk about glowing but that is the distinct lyrium tinted glow of a mage. Seeing her freely use magic is enough to make the markings on his skin itch worse than usual. Carver tears through the spirits with his sword, Isabela uses her twin daggers, and Varric has that crossbow he’s strangely attached to. As for Hawke? Fenris isn’t sure what fighting style he uses. Whenever he glances in Hawke's general direction there are no creatures near the redhead.  
  
They go through three more rooms of spirits before they reach another room with traps. “This former master of yours was definitely prepared.” Isabela grumbles as she disarms another trap.  
  
“I’d be more than willing to help speed up the process. I’ve picked a lock or two.”  
  
Isabela eyes Varric warily, “the floor is yours.”  
  
As Varric and Isabela get to work on the traps, Fenris takes this fleeting moment of silence to eye the redhead leaning against the wall. He has a staff strapped on his back but he hasn’t once used it. The only people who even need staves are mages – is the redhead a mage too? Fenris’ lyrium markings aren’t reacting to the redhead like they are reacting to that Merrill girl. Is it because he’s not using magic? Why have a staff? More importantly. Why does Fenris even care?  
  
“Done!” Isabela and Varric cheer.  
  
“And just for the record? My business would’ve taken much quicker.” Isabela adds.  
  
The entire mansion is filled with fucking abominations and damn traps. It’s enough to make anyone lose their mind. As he’s cutting through an abomination, Fenris sees just a _glimpse_ of blue shoot out Hawke’s hand. Of course the redhead is too good to be true. _Still_ , if he is a mage he’s not using magic that often. It’s...strange. Doesn’t mean Fenris can put his guard down though. He has not one but two mages to contend with and he still hasn’t seen Danarius in this fucking place!  
  
Isabela routs through the junk the abominations left behind and finds a key, she hands the key to Hawke who hands it to Fenris.  
  
As they run all the way to the main room they don’t find Danarius but another abomination. A _bigger_ abomination with razor claws. It’s literally a group effort to take this blasted thing down, especially as he calls for reinforcements in the form of other, regular sized abominations.  
  
Once the mansion is trap and abomination free, Fenris sighs. “Gone. I… I need some air.” As he’s leaving he hears Isabela say: “I guess he won’t mind if we help ourselves to the valuables?”  
  
It takes them a few minutes but they all leave the mansion and Isabela has a large satchel over her shoulder. “Did you really not know what a magister was?” He glances at Hawke.  
  
The smile the redhead gives him is infuriating. “I didn’t. I’ve been in Ferelden my whole life before coming here. I barely know about the shit going on in Kirkwall.”  
  
“You’re not missing much, trust me.” Mumbles Varric.  
  
“You’re a mage.”  
  
“I am.”  
  
Hawke breaks away from the group to meet Fenris halfway. ~~There’s a ...significant difference in height but the redhead towers over almost everyone.~~ “If you have a problem with my brother, you have a problem with me.” Carver snarls, “and don’t forget he helped you with this shit.”  
  
“Carver, it’s okay.”  
  
“No.” Fenris shakes his head, “It’s not. He’s right. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, nothing can be further from the truth. I am immensely grateful for all your help.”  
  
“You just don’t trust mages.” Hawke finishes, “I get that.”  
  
“Do you?”  
  
The redhead grins at him, “it’s hard enough to trust people without magic let alone those with it—”  
  
“I’d hate to break up this argument but—” Isabela points at herself, “it’s time to help me.”  
  
They don’t have to travel very far from Danarius’ newly liberated mansion to the part of Hightown where Raiders – of all things – attack Isabela and by extension the rest of them. Honestly, Fenris has no idea why he’s still tagging along. _Well_ , he did promise Hawke answers and he has a few questions to ask himself. Not only that but mage or no mage, it’s almost embarrassing to admit Fenris isn’t quite ready to leave the redhead – _not without getting some answers first_.  
  
~~This would be a far easier decision if the mage wasn’t so damn good looking.~~  
  
~~Or charming.~~  
  
Damn it.  
  
The trail Isabela’s “old friend” left leads them straight to the Chantry. “Well, well, well. Can't say I'm all that surprised to see you here Isabela. Castillon was heartbroken when he heard about the ship.”  
  
“Hm. I bet he was.”  
  
“Where's the relic, Isabela?”  
  
“I lost it.”  
  
“Lost it? Oh, this is rich. I can't wait to see the look on Castillon's face. You've been losing a lot of things lately, Isabela.”  
  
“Okay. I'm officially confused. What did you drag us into?”  
  
“I'll tell you everything you need to know when we're finished here.”  
  
“Kill first, chat later? Alright.”  
  
⚔  
  
Hawke feels it's only right to buy everyone drinks at a tavern called The Hanged Man, located in Lowtown. The redhead claims it's to “get to know his new friends.” He takes a brief recess to wash off the dried raider blood and spirit essence from his body; essentially, everyone does the same at their respective places. Isabela all too happily invites him to shower at her room, which was at The Hanged Man.  
  
She didn't proposition him but she did say she wanted to see his freshly showered body before anyone else.  
  
Fenris felt it only right to indulge her.  
  
Varric also has a room at The Hanged Man, and that is where everyone promises to meet up.  
  
Carver and Merrill show up together with two unfamiliar people: an orange-haired woman and a moody looking blond. The blond takes a seat next to Varric, eyeing him suspiciously, while Isabela pats the empty space next to her and Merrill takes a seat. “We all know Hawke so let's get introductions out of the way. Aveline, Anders meet Isabela and Fenris.”  
  
“Is Hawke just bringing together the most attractive people in the city?”  
  
Varric shrugs, “he could be. Hawke's not bad looking himself. I've swooned a couple times when he spoke to me.”  
  
Isabela laughs, “I know! Where do they grow 'em like Hawke?”  
  
“Ferelden, I think?” Varric turns to Carver, “you two are from Ferelden right?”  
  
Carver nods, “all over but we spent the last few years in Lothering.”  
  
Isabela nods then takes a sip of her drink. The group drinks and chats among themselves and Fenris definitely doesn't choke on his drink when Hawke rejoins them. “ _Damn._ ” Isabela whistles, “that's nice.” The redhead cleans up pretty well. It's also the first time Fenris has seen him not covered in...something.  
  
“'Sup, everyone.”  
  
“Hawke!” The group cheers.  
  
Fenris looks around the table at the others clearly looking for the best way to have Hawke sit next to them. It's both a blessing and a curse that the only spot with enough room for anyone Hawke's size is next to him. Fenris scoots over a bit and Hawke thanks him before plopping down. Damn, he smells good— _oh_. He's talking. “—questions.”  
  
Fenris blinks, “what?”  
  
“I said you probably have questions. 'Bout me?” The rest of the table is engaged in a _loud_ debate so Hawke could be yelling and they probably wouldn't pay much attention.  
  
“Y-Yeah. Do they all know?” Hawke nods. “What manner of mage are you, Hawke?”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“I've seen mages, there's always some angle.”  
  
“No angle. I'm just living one day at a time.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair that's out of its ponytail. No. Fuck. _Focus._ Kaffas. Hawke's far from the only attractive human he's ever seen. Sure, he might be _the most attractive_ but that's beside the point. Hawke's. A. Mage. For all Fenris knows this could be a trick. No, with Fenris' recent luck it's all probably real. “Look, no need telling me how dangerous magic can be. I've heard the lecture for the past two decades. I'm damn sure not perfect but I'd kill myself or become tranquil before giving into temptation. I don't even like visiting The Fade, to be honest.”  
  
“You're strange.”  
  
The redhead chuckles, “you're not the first person to tell me that.”  
  
“I still owe you, for helping me. I can't promise I won't keep an eye on you.”  
  
“Oh?” The redhead smirks and it just makes the entire situation even shittier. This wouldn't be so difficult if Hawke was just semi-attractive and didn't have a smirk that promised wicked, wicked things. “I honestly wouldn't mind you keeping an eye on me.”  
  
“Is that so?”  
  
“Oh, it's definitely so. Of course, I know you meant with the magic.”  
  
Fenris smirks, “you're definitely strange.”  
  
“You don't really owe me. Isabela took a lot of shit from the mansion, so if anything we probably owe you.” Fenris chuckles. “Now, if you wanna stick around just for the hell of it you'll get no objection from me.”  
  
“Okay. I'll stick around just for the hell of it.”  
  
“Glad to have you. Oh! By the way, what are you gonna do about your former master?”  
  
“Well, he's gonna want his mansion back at some point. If not? I'll go to him.”  
  
“Ooh. A trip to Tevinter? Sounds fun.”  
  
“I...” Fenris furrows his eyebrows, “are you offering to help me track down Danarius?”  
  
“Maybe? Would you mind company?”  
  
“Not if it's you. I doubt it'll come to that though. It'll take him a while to get his affairs in order before trying to find me.”  
  
“Don't worry, when that bastard comes we'll be ready.” The redhead gets up, “I'm gonna get another drink, want something?”  
  
Fenris gets up as well, “sure.”  
  
“Varric.” He half turns to Anders, watching Hawke and Fenris head to the bartender, “who's that elf?”  
  
“I already told you, it's Fenris.”  
  
“Sure. Right. Whatever. Where did he come from?”  
  
“I think the question you want to ask is why was he whispering to Hawke? No need to get all glowy, they're probably discussing Fenris' hatred of mages.”  
  
“His _what_?! Hawke's a mage! As am I? And so is Merrill? Who thought bringing him here was a good idea?!”  
  
“Trust me, my brother doesn't think when there's a cute face involved.” Carver mutters bitterly, sipping his ale.  
  
“Cute? _He thinks Fenris is cute_?!”  
  
“Thinks you're cute too.” Carver puts his mug down, “just thinks Fenris is cuter. He kinda gaped at him and I think he drooled, had to snap him out of it. With you he just stared.” Anders and Varric look at Carver. “I'd be a terrible brother if I didn't notice Evan's tells.”  
  
Anders tilts his head to the right, “that's his given name?”  
  
“He thinks going by surname makes him sound 'sexier.'” Carver rolls his eyes, “more dangerous, professional even. Point is, he wants the elf.”  
  
“And me?”  
  
“He thinks you're cute but it's not in his body language that he wants to sleep with you.” Anders' scowl is downright murderous.  
  
“Ooh, what about me?” Isabela purrs. “It's definitely in my body language to sleep with Hawke and that elf. Ooh, maybe together?”  
  
“Hmm...” Carver taps his chin, “I—I...” He blinks at Isabela when what she said fully catches up with him. “Maker's mercy!” She giggles. “Look. I don't know about my brother, yet. I'll have to see. Preferably when he's not near Fenris.”  
  
⚔  
  
Fenris is slightly surprised (and sadly a bit happy) to see Hawke walk into the mansion, two days after Fenris agreed to stay in Kirkwall. Not that he really had anywhere else to go. “Love what you've done with the place.”  
  
“I speak fluent sarcasm, Hawke.” The redhead grins at him. That damn grin will be the death of him. “What brings you by?”  
  
Hawke shrugs then plops down on a stair, “occasionally, I come by and check up on my friends.”  
  
Fenris joins him at the stairs, “I see. Your dwarf friend told me you're from Ferelden? I assume the blight brought you here?”  
  
“Yup.”  
  
“The blight's over, do you think about returning?”  
  
“To Ferelden? No. I-I can't.” He sighs, “it'll be weird.”  
  
“Weird how?”  
  
“It is a little early in our friendship for me to share the dark shit about my past.”  
  
“Ah. Will you tell me when it's alright to talk about the dark shit?”  
  
“Absolutely. Oh, and the same goes for you too.”  
  
“I'm afraid the majority of my life – the parts I remember – are all dark.”  
  
“Damn.” Hawke rocks back and forth, “okay. I'll let you know one dark thing that happened, since you told me about your master and whatnot.” Fenris nods. “Living in Ferelden wasn't always sunshine and glittering mabari. We moved around a lot because of templars, I've never been in a circle – my father insisted. That didn't mean templars didn't watch us. I never told anyone this but my powers developed kinda late. Usually when you reach a certain age you already have powers but I didn't get mine well until my late teens. Anyway, outside of Lothering I was practicing my magic when some templars cornered me. I guess they were gonna kill me? Or...” He shudders, “I can only imagine what else they were planning.”  
  
“What did you do?”  
  
“My mabari and I beat them to the punch.” Hawke grins at him, but it's hollow. “I picked up some fighting skills because I was sure I wasn't getting any magic. It was a joint effort between my mabari and my skills with daggers.”  
  
“You didn't kill them with magic?”  
  
“Hell no. I wasn't good at control yet and last time I used magic I set my hair on fire. It used to run past my shoulders.” He loosens his hair from its ponytail and it falls just before his shoulders. Fenris absolutely does not stare. Staring is rude. “Was harder to tie up so I guess losing some of it wasn't all bad.”  
  
“Can I touch your hair? Or is that too early to ask in our friendship?”  
  
Hawke shakes his head with a smile. “Touch away. In fact, you can put it back in the ponytail.” There's a red ribbon, Hawke puts in his hands. It's fascinating and has a unique symbol on it.  
  
“What's this symbol on you hair tie?”  
  
“My family crest. My _mother's_ family crest. I found it among the things I liberated from slavers who took our home.”  
  
“Never a dull day with you, huh?”  
  
Hawke laughs, “nope. You'll enjoy it. We take down slavers, mercenaries, the carta, abominations, giant spiders, you name it.”  
  
Fenris ties up Hawke's hair with his hair tie. “Sounds fun.”  
  
“One more thing. You know I'm not the only apostate among our friends, right?”  
  
“They're _our_ friends now?”  
  
“Fine. _My_ friends.”  
  
“That Merrill girl, right? The blood mage.” Hawke grimaces. “Did you think I wouldn't know blood magic when I see it?”  
  
“Well, I was hoping.” The redhead mutters, “Merrill's mostly harmless.”  
  
“Not all mages are as wary of magic as you are, Hawke. Anyone who _freely_ uses blood magic needs to be watched very closely.”  
  
“I know. Fortunately, she only seems to use her blood. Don't look at me like that, I know it doesn't make things better but the minute she starts raising the dead we'll take action.”  
  
“It might be too late by then. How are you so carefree with a blood mage among your inner circle?”  
  
Hawke rubs the back of his neck, “you're really not gonna like Anders then.”  
  
⚔  
  
“Fenris, wait! Damn, you walk fast! Fenris!” The elf stops walking and Hawke bumps into him. “You're sturdier than you look.”  
  
“You're _friends_ with an abomination.” He hisses.  
  
“Going to kill him doesn't really help things! Besides, he's a good healer.”  
  
“Is it _him_ or the _spirit inside him_ that does the healing!?”  
  
“Hm. Good question.” Fenris starts walking again. “Oh, fucking hell, Evan. Brilliant!”  
  
Varric's haggling with a merchant when Fenris storms past followed by Hawke. “You want me to slow him down? I can shoot him in the feet!”  
  
“Varric, _no_.”  
  
The dwarf shrugs, “let's continue this discussion later?”  
  
“Sure, I need to work on my skills. Thanks again, Varric.”  
  
“Anytime.” He catches up to Hawke who is panting by a staircase heading into Darktown. “What's with your glowing friend?” A pause, “your other glowing friend?”  
  
“Oh nothing.” Hawke stands up straight, “just off to kill Anders because of my big mouth.”  
  
“Oh, the abomination thing? Yeah, I told Isabela about that the first time we spoke.”  
  
“Motherfu—” The redhead sighs, “well, I guess I'm not in the position to criticize.”  
  
“Anyway, I'm glad you waited a day to see how the elf was settling in.” Hawke eyes him suspiciously, “your brother told us about your little crush. If that's what you're into, it's what you're into. I'm not gonna judge.”


End file.
